Fever
by Sparxyu
Summary: Oneshot. ValenWind. Vincet gets sick with the flu and it's up to Cid to take care of him. VincentxCid


**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Final Fantasy 7, Vincent Valentine or Cid Highwind! I wish I did! Mwahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!! (is thinking about how AWESOME Valenwind yaoi is) The lyrics to **_**Imaginary**_** also belong to Evanescence, respectively!**

**Fever**

**By: Sparxyu **

Eyes sparked with the slight drowsiness that occurred in everyday life, revealing slits of sky-blue as Cid Highwind woke up. He shifted onto his left side, sighing contentedly as he caught sight of his lover, Vincent.

The gunman was sleeping soundly, his vampire-like and usually morbidly sad features relaxed. Crimson orbs spun beneath their lids as he slept, dreaming of something that one could only wonder about.

Fingers, so soft and gentle, reached out, making Cid smile as they latched themselves into the folds of his pale blue pajama shirt and curled within it. Smile deepening, he wrapped his arms about Vincent's shoulders, pulling the gunman closer in an affectionate embrace.

A slight shudder escaped Vincent's lips as he cuddled closer to Cid, nestling his head in the crook of the pilot's neck, his ear resting at Cid's chest, listening to his heartbeat. Another shiver escaped from him as he did so.

Concerned, Cid placed a hand against his lover's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Vinnie?" he asked.

"Hnh?" Crimson orbs shot open as Vincent opened his eyes to view his lover. Still drowsy, he drifted off to sleep, his eyelids drooping closed.

"Vinnie," Cid ventured again. "Vinnie, it's time to wake up." When Vincent wouldn't open his eyes, he shook his shoulder a little harder. "Wake up, Vincent!"

A sweet smile slipped onto Vincent's lips as his eyes opened yet again. "Chief," he murmured softly. "Good morning."

"Morning," the pilot replied, returning the grin. "How'd ya sleep?"

Vincent cuddled into his lover's shoulder. "Very well, thank you." He slipped a hand to Cid's face, touching it gently.

Cid wrapped his hand around the gunman's fist, his brow furrowing with concern. Vincent's skin was chilly to the touch.

Vincent glanced at him, noticing the look on his face. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Cid clutched Vincent's hand with one of his hands and placed the other against the gunman's forehead. "Your hands are cold," he remarked. "and you've got a bit of a temperature." He walked into the bathroom to retrieve the thermometer he kept there. "Open your mouth and slide this under your tongue."

Vincent did as he was told, not sparing breath to protest. Suddenly, the thermometer beeped and Cid took it from Vincent's mouth.

"Hmm…" he murmured, examining the screen. "100.5. Holy, crap, that's pretty high! Come on, let's go downstairs and get ya some medicine." He tugged at Vincent's arm, forcing him to follow as the two made their way down the stairs.

Once downstairs, Cid made his way into the kitchen and started to dig through the cabinets.

Vincent dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. With a slight groan, he placed a hand to his forehead. "Cid…"

"Vinnie?" the pilot returned. "What's wrong?"

The gunman choked. "I have to—to…"

The pilot uttered a stream of curses and quickly guided his lover into the bathroom, holding silky black locks back as Vincent's stomach heaved its contents into the porcelain confines of the toilet.  
Shaking slightly, the gunman looked up at the pilot. Tears streamed from his eyes and he moved to wipe them away, but stopped when he caught sight of his hands.

"Ya okay, Vince?" Cid asked. He tore a slip of toilet paper off the roll and wiped at the tears in Vincent's eyes. "Come on," Cid said gently, wrapping an arm about Vincent's shoulders and guiding him back into the kitchen.

Once there, he guided Vincent to the chair at the table he had previously occupied, then made his way over to a cabinet, opening it.

He set the glass in front of Vincent on the table. "Here. To rinse your mouth out." The pilot lowered himself into the chair, watching as the gunman drained the glass of the liquid contained within.

"Chief, I think I'd better lay down," Vincent murmured. "I don't feel so well."

"You'd better lie on the couch," the pilot replied. "That way you'll have less of a way to go in case ya need to blow chunks again."

"Yeah…" Vincent laid down, resting his head against a throw pillow.

Cid placed a hand against his forehead, then moved back toward the bathroom. Vincent heard the sounds of the tap running and water dripping. Something cool and wet made contact with the gunman's forehead.

"Cid?"

"Yeah, Vince?"

"I think I'm going to get some sleep now."

"Okay," the pilot grinned to himself, then brushed his lips against the gunman's forehead in a tender kiss. "Sweet dreams, Vinnie."

Making his way into the kitchen, Cid grabbed the cordless phone and headed quietly to the bedroom. He seated himself on the mattress, dialing a number on the keys.

On the other line, a woman picked up the phone. "Strife Delivery Service. You name it, we deliver it."

"Hey, Tifa. It's Cid."

"Hi, Cid. How are you?"

"Fine, I guess. I need a favor though. I just ordered medicine through the drugstore. Think ya can get Cloud to deliver it for me?"

"No problem. Cid, you're not getting sick are you?"

"Nah, it's Vinnie. He's been coughing, throwing up, got chills and a fever…. I think he's got the flu."

"Poor Vincent. Hey, Cid? Have you been smoking at all today?"

"Huh?" Cid replied blankly. He hadn't even had time to think of cigarettes at all; he'd been too worried about Vincent. "What d'ya mean by that, Tifa?"

"It's usually recommended that if people have the flu that you don't smoke around them. It'll make the virus worse. Anyway, I'll have Cloud pick up the medicine and deliver it in about half an hour."

"Thanks, Tifa." Cid hung up the phone, making his way back to the living room. A whimper caught his attention. Snapping his head up, he caught a glance of a sight that made sympathy stir in the pit of his gut.

Vincent lay on the couch, still asleep, but the blanket that had been in the gunman's hands had almost been reduced to a rag. He lay curled upon the couch in a small ball, his head tucked into his chest as if he were afraid of being struck.

Vincent screamed in his sleep. "H-hojo, no! D-don't! NO!"

'"_Hojo,"'_ Cid's thoughts repeated darkly. _'That stupid bastard. What he did to Vincent in the past is coming back now when he's sick like this. Poor guy… Damn memories…'_ He clambered onto the couch and pulled Vincent into his lap, holding him gently.

"Vincent!" he intoned. "Vinnie, ya gotta wake up! Vincent!"

Vincent awoke with a loud shout. Tears sprung from his eyes. "Chief…" he murmured sadly through rough coughing. He collapsed into Cid's arms and a sob escaped, followed by more.

Cid held him close. "It's okay," he whispered gently, rubbing Vincent's back. "It's okay, Vinnie. Hojo can't hurt ya anymore. It's okay. You're safe now." _'I'll make sure of that.'_

Vincent looked up at him, a question glimmering in the depths of his wine-red eyes.

"Yeah, I'll stay. Ya don't even have to ask. I love ya. Why don't ya get some sleep now?"

The gunman nodded, laying his head back on the pillow after kissing Cid's cheek. "Chief, will you sing to me like you used to?"

"Yeah," Cid replied, rocking him gently in his arms. In a soft voice, the melody escaped from his lips,

"_**I linger in the doorway  
Of alarm clock screaming  
Monsters calling my name  
Let me stay  
Where the wind will whisper to me  
Where the raindrops, as they're falling, tell a story**_

In my field of paper flowers  
And candy clouds of lullaby  
I lie inside myself for hours  
And watch my purple sky fly over me." 

As he finished, he couldn't help a slight grin. Vincent had gone back to sleep and it was easy to tell that he would sleep well without a single nightmare. His breathing was soft and peaceful, his features relaxed softly. Cid was sure that his dreams would no longer be dangerous.

The doorbell rang, startling the pilot out of his thoughts. He opened the door to find none other than Cloud Strife standing outside, Fenrir slightly in the distance. From the bike's saddle bag, the spikey-haired ex-SOLDIER removed a small package, and handed it to said pilot.

"Cid," he greeted quietly. "The medicine you ordered for Vincent."

"Thanks, Cloud," Cid replied. "Hang on a sec." He fished in the pockets of his pants for his wallet, pulling it out and searching its compartments for some cash, then handed it to Cloud.

"How's he doing?" Cloud asked.

"Good, I guess. He's still got a pretty high fever and a bad cough, but he's asleep now. He just went back to sleep after a nightmare."

"Nightmare?"

"About Hojo."

"Stupid bastard," the pilot and ex-SOLDIER hissed in unison.

"Anyway, tell him I said I hope he feels better soon."

"Thanks again, Cloud."

"Whatever…"

Cid turned back into the house, staring out of the window as the motorcycle pulled out of the driveway.

It was about three and a half hours later, when Vincent clawed his way out of his subconscious, the smell of food thick in the air. He opened his eyes to see Cid through the doorway that led to the kitchen, stirring a pot of something at the stove.

By accident, the pilot's finger collided with the hot metal of the pot and he let out a soft stream of curses after trying to stifle a yelp.

He noticed Vincent's awakening. "Hey there, sleepyhead. How'd ya sleep?"

"Pretty well. I dreamt about you." Vincent wrapped his arms around Cid's thick, strong shoulders as he lowered himself onto the surface of the couch, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah? Were they good dreams?"

"You know it, Chief." The gunman flashed him a tiny grin.

"Heh. Well, lunch is ready and ya can't take your medicine without eating something first."

"Hey, Cid?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Huh? For what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't really matter."

The two of them made their way into the kitchen.

"C'mon, Vinnie. I actually cooked something!"

Vincent sweat-dropped. Cid hadn't always been the best at cooking, but he sat down and ate the miso soup that was placed in front of him. Surprisingly, it wasn't really all that bad. He overlooked the crackers Cid had placed next to the bowl, though, because he really didn't think his stomach could handle it.

"Ready for your medicine?" Cid asked. The pilot held a glass of water and a small bottle of pills in his hands.

"Mm, I guess so." Vincent took the pills from Cid and popped them into his mouth, quickly following them with the water after he discovered their flavor.

Cid smiled as he watched his lover grimace.

"What are you laughing at?" Vincent shot Cid a glare.

"You're kinda cute when ya look like that, Vince."

"Shut up! They really tasted bad." Vincent pouted. "And it's no fun being sick."

"Aw," Cid wrapped his arms around Vincent's waist. "My poor angel." He kissed Vincent's forehead. It was slightly hot to the touch. "I'm gonna check your temperature again."

"Okay," Vincent replied, letting Cid tuck the thermometer under his tongue once again.

A slight beep came from the device and Cid checked it. "99.8. You're really sick, Vinnie! Wanna go upstairs and get some sleep?"

"Yeah…"

The two of them went back to the bedroom, Vincent in Cid's arms bridal style. Vincent laid down on the mattress as Cid set him on the bed, pressing his forehead against the pillow. "Is it just me or is it freezing in here?"

Cid placed his hand against Vincent's skin. "That's because of your fever and your skin is cold. I'll be right back."

He went to the linen closet and fetched three more blankets, then made his way to the closet in the bedroom. He pulled out a red object that was soft, warm and a little ragged: Vincent's cloak. "Better?"

Vincent grabbed at Cid's arm, pulling him onto the mattress. He cuddled up against Cid's chest. Before falling asleep to the sound of Cid's heartbeat, he murmured, "Much better."

A week later, Vincent Valentine had fully recovered, while Cid suffered from a bout of the flu.

**The end. **

**Reviews, please! Tell me whether or not u think I should do a sequel! **


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